Schwartz, and my host when I am in SF, photographer Bob Adler.
After we chowed down in Charles' kitchen and did the quick tour of his recent fine collages that line the hallway and into his bedroom. Charles (lucky dog) has given his collection to the Univ. of California Berkeley library! No simple task. Most libraries and instiutions won't take collections ...plus they paid him for it!!!! NV
photo by Bob Adler
Before I elaborate on lunch I have to write about my long, dear and, at times, troubling relationship with Annie Sprinkle. When I started teaching at School of Visual Arts on 23rd st in Manhattan I would see Annie from a distance moving along Lexington avenue as I returned to my studio on 27th between Park and Lex. I finally approached her and she burst into a grin and said "Eric Kroll! You're the reason I became a photographer!!!! Your book Sex Objects!!". Later I learned she did her photography assignments at SVA doing photographs at the houses she worked in. She lived right around the corner.
Upon meeting Annie my life changed (for the better). She lent me the leather garter belt and matching leather g-string that my wife wore sitting on a white stool with her head titled submissively down with a leather eye mask over her eyes. That session changed the direction of my photography. It was later published in Pat Reshen's High Heeled Women. What I remember is our three year old daughter, Leah, careening around the stool between exposures!
Annie introduced me to many many people like Les Barany, H.R. Giger's agent, Steve Bonge, now head of the New York chapter of NYC Hell's Angels and Veronica Vera head of the school for boys that want to be girls. Steve assisted me on my first non wife girlie shoot with Sioban Hunter. I cant believe I bought and used satin sheets!!! I met Mr. 10 1/2" Marc Stevens and Marco Vassi, the great erotic writer, now deceased. I remember lying across Annie's bed, the three of us on our backs fully clothed holding hands doing the "breath of fire". Annie had (or sounded like she had) orgasm after orgasm. During a break I looked at Marco and asked if he felt anything and he smiled and mouthed "no".
After Marco passed away there was an informal memorial at a westside loft and we were given the opportunity to speak about Marco. I was hesitant and then was about to move to the front when someone from behind pushed me aside and went up and spoke...Norman Mailer. He spoke about how much erotic language he owed to Marco. When I was a kid of 16, I came into the city from westchester with my fellow student Kenny Lindsay and met my english high school professor, Bud Stillman, to hear Norman Mailer read at the Carnegie Hall recital hall. Before hand, we were invited upstairs to a cocktail party given for Mailer (Bud knew him) and Mailer looked at me and said I reminded him of Leopold of Leopold and Loeb, the Chicago child murderers.
Later, in a near empty hall but seats away from Gregory Corso swigging from a flash and being loud and unruly, I listened as Mailer read from his contract with Carnegie Hall. What I remember is him screaming from the pulpit "kick her in the cunt! KICK HER IN THE CUNT".
(I will wrtie more later)